


We All Float Down Here

by orphan_account



Category: South Park
Genre: F/M, M/M, cartman is not That terrible, craigs gang & stans gang, ike is georgie, it (2017) au, style is written as friendship but can be implied as more, tweek and craig in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-01-15 03:23:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18490324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The children of South Park know better than to think nothing of it when Ike Broflovski disappears on a cold rainy evening in December.





	1. One of the Missing

Rainy days had always been something that Stan Marsh held distaste for. From the gray clouds that blocked out the sunlight, to the tapping of droplets against the roof above, everything about a day seemed to be a clear indication of darkness. The clouds would march over the town with bitterness brewing, hiding within the mist and fog. While some could see the rainfall as a day to take shelter and relax inside, Stan saw it as a wasted day to adventure and experience the wonders of South Park. 

 

Instead of riding through the town on his bike with friends, he sat in room with Eric Cartman and Kenny McCormick, who were sluggishly playing a game of cards on his bedroom floor. The fourth and final piece to their group, Kyle Broflovski, was at home sick with a cold, and Stan drummed his fingers along the edges of his blanket, with his focus on the absence of his best friend. 

 

"Quit cheating, Kenny." Cartman remarked with an irritable whine. He shifted his position to sit up, previously laid out on his belly with the cards in front of him.  

 

"I'm not cheating." Kenny replied sharply grinning, satisfied as he crossed his arms. "It's not my fault you're awful at every game ever played." 

 

Cartman groaned. "I swear to god, all you poor people suck ass." He looked up to Stan, who sat above them on his bed, watching with a bored expression. "Rounds over, hippie. Are you joining for the second game, or are you just gonna sit around missing your little boyfriend all day?" 

 

Stan rolled his eyes, moving off the edge of his bed and scooting onto the floor beside the two. "I guess I'll play." 

 

"Finally, some good competition." Kenny beamed, hands grabbing toward the clutter of cards spread across the bedroom floor to shuffle into a well-kept and orderly pile. 

 

The blonde only had a moment to take hold of the stack, before a soft knock on the door caught the attention of each boy. 

 

"Stanley...?" Sharon Marsh's hesitant voice made its way through the wooden bedroom doorway. "Can I come in?" 

 

Stan exchanged a look with Cartman and Kenny, before looking back to the direction of his mother's voice. "Yeah, alright." 

 

His mother gently opened the door, the telephone grasped tightly in her hands. "I've just got off the phone with Sheila Broflovski. She says that Ike has been missing ever since he went out to play a few hours ago." Sharon looked at the boys, false composure laced through her tone. "You guys haven't seen or heard from him, have you?" 

 

Butterflies arose and landed themselves in the pits of Stan's stomach. News about anything related to Ike Broflovski should be Kyle calling Stan to tell him that his little brother had finally learned to swim without a floatie, or that the kid had learned a new curse word from the television. The air surrounding the boy's name should be light and breezy, like the first breath of summer air after a cold and long winter. Instead, everything about his name now just feels raw. 

 

"I... We haven't." Stan said softly in response after a few hallow heartbeats of grave silence.  

 

Sharon sighed, nodding slowly. "I figured." The woman stood in the doorway a moment longer, taking in each of the boys staring back at her with wide and unwavering eyes. She then put the phone down on Stanley's dresser, shuffling over to take a seat on his blue shaded bed. "Your father and I are going out to help search. The whole town seems to be out there. I want you boys to stay inside. There  could be someone, or something, dangerous out there." She shook her head, and Stan could only imagine the dark thoughts that could be going through a mothers mind. "Ike could be lost or taken, and whatever the circumstances are, it's important that you guys are there for Kyle." 

 

Stan watched his mother carefully. "Then we should go see him, right? Is he out searching too?" 

 

"Sheila made him stay home. She doesn’t want him out in the rain while he's sick, and we don’t know what could be out there." Sharon replied, eyes concentrated on the window above her sons bed. The rain thundered viciously, as if a thousand pieces of glass were thundering from the sky and crashing into the ground like a broken vase. The woman chewed the inside of her lip restlessly, thoughts focused on the boys safety, specifically Stan's. "That's the same reason that your father and I don't want you heading out and joining the search. Whatever is out there is likely targeting children, and the most important thing right now is to keep you guys safe. Kenny and Eric, either your parents can come pick you up, or I can drive you guys home when Randy and I come back. I don’t want either of you walking home today, alright?" 

 

Kenny nodded with gratitude, and Cartman made no move to agree. Stans heart thumped with apprehension at the idea of losing one of his friends. He uneasily adjusted the top of his covers. "When will you and dad be back?"  

 

"An hour at most. The police will take care of everything after it's been 24 hours with no sign from him." Sharon sighed, her breath the scent of minty peppermints. "We can only hope he'll return before then." 

 

"What if he doesn’t come back?" Kenny inquired, his tone uneasy. 

 

Stan's mother shook her head, standing from her sons bed. "We don’t know, but we have to be strong for Kyle and his family. I should probably head out now with Mr. Marsh, and I expect you to all be on your best behavior, and to stay safe inside, do you understand?" 

 

Cartman, Kenny and Stan exchanged a look. 

 

 "Yes." Kenny mumbled, looking disturbed. Crazy incidents had always taken their mark on South Park, but a missing person wasn’t supposed to happen to the family of a close friend. A missing person was a distant concept that should be heard on the news, or alerted through the Sunday papers.   

 

With that, Sharon nodded at the boys, shutting the door behind her. 

 

"Holy shit." Stan was the first to speak a moment later.  

 

Cartman shook his head. "That kid was always one foot in the grave. It wouldn’t be a stinkin' surprise if he was found with his eyeballs ripped out, or his head on a stick, or –" 

 

"Shut up, Cartman! _Seriously!_ " Stan hissed, shoving the boys shoulder. 

 

Kenny looked back to the two with wide eyes. "We gotta help Kyle. We should go over there and make sure he's alright."   
 

"You heard my mom, dude—we can't leave the house. It's dangerous," Stan replied. "We should call." 

 

Kenny nodded, standing to reach the phone that Mrs. Marsh had left on her sons dresser. He typed in the memorized number, before sitting back down and putting the voice on speaker. 

 

"He's not gonna pick up." Cartman declared, crossing his arms after the ringer had chimed for the third time. 

 

" _Shh._ " Stan mumbled, listening close for the sound of the ringing to cease and to hear his best friends voice. Kyle could be destroyed, Stan thought to himself. He could be hiding under his blanket, tears falling down his cheeks like ragged currents flooding a peaceful forest. He could be enraged and hostile toward himself, thoughts bouncing through the walls of his brain, blaming every part of his mind that he couldn’t be there to protect his little brother. Or even worse, Stan decided, he could be pretending that everything was superbly fine. His stomach churned with alarm. "Please pick up." He whispered out loud, ignoring the sympathetic look from Kenny. 

 

**_Click. The person you are trying to reach is not available at this time. Please call back later, or leave a message after the beep._**  

 

"God dammit, Ky." Kenny muttered under his breath, slamming the phones end button with force. He then looked back to Cartman and Stan, something unswerving and resolved in his eyes. "Stan, I love ya' to death but I couldn’t care less about your mothers rule to stay inside. I'm going over to Kyle's house to make sure he's okay. I'll see you guys later." 

 

"Wait!" Stan responded before Kenny had the chance to stand up. He grabbed his hat, slipping it over his thick black hair, a look of approval overtaking his features. "I'm coming with you." 

 

They both looked to Cartman expectedly, and the boy crossed his arms stubbornly in response. "Well, I'm not gonna just sit here alone and wait to get kidnapped by whatever's out there. You guys better be standing in front of me and behind me at all times, so I have time to run if someone tries to take us." 

 

Stan rolled his eyes. Leave it to Eric to say something so blunt. "Whatever, lard ass. Your belly has enough coverage for the three of us." 

 

* 

 

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Tweek Tweak placed himself in front of the Donovan's window, watching the rain pour from the sky. 

 

“Tweek, he’ll be perfectly fine.” The voice of Clyde reassured, for what seemed to be the hundredth time. The boy watched as his blonde friend tugged at his hair and twitched with a noise of a fidget every so often. 

 

“You don’t know that, Clyde! Craig is never this late. And with Kyle's little brother missing... God dammit! This is no time to— _Gah!_ Walk all alone!" 

 

Clyde looked out the window from his position on his couch, worrying for his closest friend as well. Of course, noting this fact would do nothing to ease Tweeks panic. Instead, he did what no other version Clyde Donovan would be able to do on a day filled with such tension; for Tweeks sake, he played it cool. "It's raining. He probably went home once it started to drizzle. He'll call any second now complaining about his drenched hat." 

 

Jimmy, Token, Craig, and Tweek had arrangements to spend the day at Clyde's house playing video games, but the rainfall had resulted in a change of plans. Driving was dangerous and Token didn't live close enough to walk. In addition, it would take too much energy out of Jimmy to struggle with crutches in the rain. Tweek had shown up with a purple umbrella, pleased at the opportunity to break out of his parents tight grasp, as well as their simulating coffee. Craig had called earlier and told Clyde that he was still coming, and his absence only became a concern to the two when the news about Ike broke through the town like a crumbling avalanche. 

 

"We don't even know everything about what happened to Ike," Clyde continued, getting up from his natural position on his couch to stand next to Tweek. He put his hand on the boys shoulder, knowing well enough that his friend was never this anxious or disturbed when Craig was around. "Ike could just be lost somewhere or—or playing with a puppy that he found in the woods! That sounds neat, doesn’t it?" 

 

Tweek nodded, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to create the serene picture in his mind. "Okay so, Kyle's little brother is playing in the rain and then—then he sees a puppy and follows it into the woods... and then, the puppy licks his face and... and then he opens his mouth to _reveal_ that he actually has _CLAW_ S— _Gah_! And he bites Ikes face off— _Ngh!_ Oh Jesus, man! _Oh God!_ " 

 

Clyde's eyes widened as he fumbled for Tweek's hands that had inherently moved to grasping at his hair. "No, Tweek! Good things happen to Ike, remember? He's doing just fine!" 

 

The twitching boy took a deep, shuddering breath in response, gripping at Clyde's shoulder as he searched his friends bright brown eyes. "But... what about Craig—Do you think he's okay?" 

 

Clyde looked out the window once more, expression falling at the sight of no familiar blue stringed hat walking down the pavement. "I think so, Tweek. I don’t know for sure but... I guess I can think so for now." 

 

Tweek seemed to take more appreciation in the cold hard truth rather than being forced to think of better things that nobody knew were true. Genuineness was smooth, like the beach waves that would caress to the shore for a moment, before evenly making its way back to the water.  

 

"Okay..." He said after a moment had passed. "Maybe I can think so, too." 

 

Clyde gave a shaky grin, patting Tweek's shoulder. He opened his mouth to form a response, but the soft knocking on the door was enough to make both Tweek and Clyde flinch with alarm. 

 

"Oh Jesus." Tweek mumbled to himself, and before Clyde could take another step, the blonde had already stumbled to the door, hand grasping the doorknob. 

 

"Sorry I'm late." Craig Tuckers nasally voice entered the house. "I wanted to make sure Tricia was okay before I left. All this news about Ike is really scaring the crap out of her." 

 

It took an instant for his boyfriend to pull Craig inside, jerking him into a hug. The presence of Craig was like the stars aligning in perfect sync. Like the fresh cut grass that you could run your hands through on the first day of Spring. "I'm glad you're safe." The blonde decided on saying, squeezing him tighter. "I really am." 

 

Craig hugged back, greeting Clyde's teary eyed look with question. But then again, Clyde got choked up at everything. "I'm glad you’re safe too, honey." Craig responded. "With all the shit that’s going on in town right now, let's keep it that way." 

 

* 

 

"I'm seriously, you guys. This rain is making me wish I was as dead as Ike right now." 

 

Stan clenched his fists fiercely. "Will you quit it with all the Ike jokes, fatass? This is serious!" 

 

Cartman blinked. "Who said I was joking?" 

 

"Don’t say anything more about Ike, okay? We're here." Kenny whispered, adjusting his orange hoodie as the rainfall seemed to thunder down even harder.  

 

The three boys had climbed through backyards and jumped over fences to assure that they wouldn’t get caught outside the Marsh residence by their parents. It seemed that every adult was outside walking through puddles and patches of mud in the grass with flashlights and lanterns, searching for the youngest Broflovski.  

 

Stan motioned for Kenny and Cartman to follow him as they began to near Kyle's signature window. It stood before a tree that reached high enough to access the redheads bedroom, and sneaking into each other's households in such a way was nothing new to any of the boys. Stan tried to prepare himself to see a torn down, more broken version of his super best friend. It was no secret that Ike meant everything to Kyle. 

 

"What the hell are you guys doing here?" 

 

A stony sharp voice cut through the air, along with a beam of light, flashing over each of the boys. 

 

There stood Kyle Broflovski himself, staring at his friends in such a cold and alarming way, that not even Cartman had a retort. He had a backpack secured around his structure, and his eyes looked raw and deprived of the light that usually danced across his expression. His face was pale, and a flashlight was gripped tightly in one shaky hand. He stood just below the final branch, his footprints in the thin layer of snow fresh and new. 

 

Kenny was the first to speak up, stepping forward with caution. "We came to see how you were holding up. What're you doing out of bed? You're sick, Ky." 

 

Kyle didn’t look like himself, and Stan knew right off the bat that while this may have been Kyle, this wasn’t his mind. Kyle's mind worked quick, in fascinating ways that only few could understand. He had a short temper, but that didn’t affect his kindness and necessity to help everyone around him. The boy that stood in front of him however, was speaking from the mind of someone who had just undergone the unimaginable. Stan knew that the only way to fix this, was to get Ike back. 

 

Kyle stared at his friends for a long time, something hard and unrecognizable in his eyes. "I'm going to find my brother. I don’t care if you guys tell my mom. I'm not coming back until I find him." 

 

Just as Kyle had begun to walk, Stan grabbed his friends shoulder softly. "It isn't safe. Come back inside and we can sort this whole thi –" 

 

Kyle fiercely turned around at his best friends touch, teeth gritted and eyes wide with fire. " _No!_ I know him better than anybody out there looking, and if anyone were to find where he was, it would be _ME!_ I can save him—I know I can! _I have to!"_ Kyle cut himself off, seeming to choke on his own words, before slowing his word pace and lowering his voice. He wiped at his nose, and his entire posture seemed to crumble into pieces of debris. "I have to." 

 

Kenny reached forward, and Kyle backed up, shaking his head with defiance. 

 

"Ky, c'mon." Kenny urged quietly. 

 

He shined his flashlight on Kenny's face, glaring bitterly. "If it was Karen out there, would you stay inside and do nothing?" 

 

Something crossed between Kenny's expression. Like a lock had been turned, or a case had been opened. Stan and Cartman watched as Kyle sourly turned around with a sniffle, marching into the darkness. It only took a moment before Kenny ran after him. 

 

Stan let out a deep sigh, breathlessly following the two after a moment of hesitation, the decision clearly settled. Kyle wouldn’t stop until he knew that Ike was safe, and what kind of super best friend would Stan be if he decided to let him go through it alone?  

 

Cartman watched the footprints of his friends trail off into the blackness of the night. "Playing Scooby-Doo isn't going to get us anywhere!" He called out. Silence and the sound of his friends rapid footsteps served as the response that Eric received. He shook his head with frustration, before joining the three. "Wait up, don’t leave me out here alone, you assholes! I'm seriously!" 

 

The worrisome surrounding the idea of getting caught by his parents had faded from Stan's mind once he saw just how crowded the streets were. Familiar neighbors held out their flashlights, searching behind bushes and through tall tree branches that hid beneath leaves. The streets looked like they had on Halloween night, with a sick and horrifying twist to it. He kept a watchful eye on Kyle as he lead the three through the wet grass, not even flinching when his sneaker would sink into a patch of mud.   

 

"Hey, Kyle?" Stan asked, stepping over a log. "Where was Ike playing when he was outside? Maybe we should look there first." 

 

Kyle shivered against the wind. "I... Well, that's the thing—I don’t exactly know. It's all my fault." The redhead miserably wiped at his runny nose. "I made him a paper boat so he could sail it in the water that builds up on the side of the road. I couldn’t go with him because I was sick and now... now he's just gone." 

 

Stan caught up to his friend, walking evenly at the same pace. "Dude, it's not your fault." 

 

Kyle wiped at his bleary eyes. "It is, Stan. It really is."   
 

Just as the boy was about to prove him wrong with comforting words, someone touched his shoulder abruptly, and Stan let out a yelp. 

 

"Holy shit, Butters!" Stan cried once he turned to see the familiar blonde. "You scared the crap out of me!" 

 

"Oh, gee. Sorry, fella." The boy replied, twiddling his thumbs together. "I just—well, I saw you guys walking here an' I was wondering if you heard the new news about Ike yet." 

 

Kyle's gaze went fervent. He flicked his flashlight off, and the boys watched as he searched Butters expression rigidly. "What news?" 

 

Butters shifted uncomfortably under his hard stare. "Well, um... Golly, I think you should see for yourself, Kyle. I'm sorry." 

 

A strike of lightning flared throughout the darkness like a loose firecracker. Kyle's face went pale under the light. 

 

Nobody liked where this was all going.  

 

"Kyle..." Stan started. "Maybe it's best if we—" 

 

"I told you," Kyle's voice was dead and empty. "I'm not going home until I find Ike." 

 

Shakily, the redhead began to make his way directly toward the crowd with speed before anyone could stop him. 

 

Stan felt his vision tilt as he began to walk after Kyle; the thoughts that surrounded his head assembling and forcing him into a dizzy spell. He tried to prepare his mind for what he might see. _A dead body. A chopped off head. A dislocated arm._ Jesus, Ike was just a kid. They all were. 

 

Stan felt time slow to a crawl as he made his way through the horde of familiar faces. It was once he'd pushed his way through that he saw the sole sight of Mrs. and Mr. Broflovski crouched over something so innocent and bright. Tunnel vision, is what they call it; when the world seems to stop and focus on a single element. Like the wind freezing time for a moment of hard realization at a haunting sight. 

 

There, dangling off the sewers entrance, was Ike's single rain boot, lone and wet.  

 

He knew from that moment on, that Ike Broflovski was no more. 


	2. A Red Balloon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One Year Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> keep in mind that this is one year later! I hope you enjoy <3

  

Life continued on after that fateful night in December. Kyle got over his cold, Stan hit a growth spurt the next month, and Kenny got a new job at the local supermarket. Cartman gained a couple of pounds, and Kevin Stoley moved out of town after Butters little redhead sidekick Dougie O'Connell, or General Disarray, went missing during the month of January. Stans grandpa was put into a retirement home, the Tweak family bought a new and modern car, Mrs. Donovan's death anniversary passed, Jimmy Valmer gave a speech about tolerance of handicapped civilians in the town square, Mr. Marsh took a week vacation to the Bahamas by himself, Officer Barbrady was promoted, and Ike Broflovski was never found. 

 

The worst part is that he wasn’t the only one.  

 

Things had shifted around South Park. The curfew for children slid to seven o'clock, and no child was allowed the bright tasting freedom of walking alone anymore. In a year alone, over ten local civilians had gone missing, each and every single one of them a kid. Time had surrounded the town with thorns, twisting it into a sickening knot and squeezing out every bit of spirit it had left.   

 

Craig and Token, on their way home on a light Friday afternoon, decided to put all the worries behind them, thoughts focused on the bike petals below their feet. The air blew by, the sunlight beaming down onto the trail to Jimmy's house. Tweek and Clyde were already there, and the only reason that the other two had been running late was because Token had been itching for a new book from the school's library. A book about South Park’s history, to be exact. Craig had easily agreed to go with him, as he knew well enough that no child should ever go anywhere alone, spending the short time in the library viewing the space exploration center.  

 

"Dude, you have no idea how interesting this town is," Token spoke as the two gripped the handlebars of their bicycles. Craig's bike was dark green, the color of a newborn forest on the first day of spring. Token's was a pale shade of yellow, blue streaks painted on a few years back for the bike parade that took place in the streets. "There's so much history behind it and everybody just ignores it."  

 

Craig glanced in the boy's direction, his signature monotone voice ringing through the empty dirt pathway. "What's got you so interested in this dump? We'll be out of here in a few years anyway."  

 

If the two weren't riding bicycles, Token would have shoved the old and flimsy textbook in his friends face. "There's a lot of dark stuff in here. I found an old newspaper in my dad's office and I think it would be good for all of us to read and learn more about—" 

 

"You know that I'm not reading that, right?" Craig interrupted, a hidden grin behind his lack of facial expression. The wind rushed by as he turned to look ahead, letting a fond smile slip. "Dude, you're such a nerd."   

 

“Don’t act like you aren’t smart, too. I seriously think there’s something wrong with this town. Nothing feels right around here lately.”  

 

“It’s some lunatic. We just have to be careful.”  

 

“But that’s the thing, Craig. It feels like more than just that. You don’t feel it?”  

 

“I don’t know.”  

 

Token waited a moment before choosing his reply. “The reason I'm looking into this stuff is because of this old newspaper I found in my dad's office. It had some... disturbing stories in reports. They've all happened right here in South Park almost thirty years ago, and it's like, it all seems to be happening again. It seems to specifically target —" 

  

 "Wait, shut up." Craig's bike suddenly came to a striking halt, and Token exasperatingly glared at him, his own wheels slowing down as his expression became laced with question. Craig's eyes became wide. "I think I just heard something."  

 

 A glint of fear passed through Token's expression for just a moment, before he shook his head, convinced that Craig was spouting bullshit. "Shut up, man. I know you’re fucking with me.”  

 

Craig’s attentive expression didn’t break. "No, seriously. Listen real close."  

 

"Fuck you, man." Token scoffed. “You’re trying to scare me and it isn’t going to —" 

 

 “ _Shh!”_  Craig suddenly hissed, slapping a hand over his friend's mouth.  

 

He gripped to his hat as he clumsily clambered off his bike. Without a moment to spare, he frenetically tugged the edge of Token’s purple sweatshirt, pulling the boy off his own bicycle as well and into a crouching position.  

 

Even as their bikes clashed to the ground and Token had begun to sputter fraught questions that remained muffled by the blue-hatted boy's hand, Craig kept his position still. His commonly expressionless face was pale, eyes rapidly blinking as they seemed to be focused on an oncoming moving figure approaching from above in the branches.  

 

Token, who had been silenced with concern as he saw his friends disturbed stare had only snapped out of his frozen daze spawned by terror and panic once his ears had picked up on the rustling of something swinging in the paper-thin tree branches overhead. The trees that lead the trail into the neighborhood suddenly seemed to grow further and further away as the haunting echo of crinkling leaves aloft gained speed.   

 

With a sick feeling sinking itself into the pits of his stomach like a fallen rock in water, Token realized with horror that the sound was getting closer.  

  

"Craig..." He whispered shakily, nudging the other boy's shoulder. The boy didn’t respond, his attention focused on the sky above. "Craig...?"  

  

The boy resembled the look of someone caught in a trance, and Token felt tears of a panic spike to his eyes as he shook his friend's shoulder less gently, attempting to get him to snap out of it. He stared into the sky as if his soul had been knocked out of his body, or simply kicked to the curb by an unknown force.  

  

"Craig, C'mon!" Token spat out with a whimper, his voice alarmed and rocky. "Snap out of it! Wake up!" 

  

 _" In Pennywise's Circus, there's not even a need to go to sleep at all! C'mon down, little boy! Won't you join us? All your friends are inside waiting for you! "_  

  

The eager, almost greedy and keen tone sent a chill down Token's spine.  

 

But the voice wasn’t coming from the unresponsive boy next to him.  

 

It was coming from above.  

  

With beads of sweat planted on his face and trembling hands that violently shook his entire figure, Token slowly began to tilt his head toward the sound.  

  

There, swinging from a tree branch with a craving smile and pearly white teeth stood a disfigured and towering clown. From the bottom of his red sizable shoes to his gray stockings that trailed up his dusted pants, to the ruffled stitches that outlined his chest, to the laced collar, Token was sure that he'd encountered something inhumane. His head was too big, his teeth were too sharp, and his height was too tremendous.   

  

 _" Follow me to the Circus! Don't you want to see me swing from ropes and balance on a tightrope? "_  

  

Token looked to Craig with frantic eyes, finding a rare boldness in his hallow expression. He needed to be strong, if not for himself, then for Craig.  _He had to be strong_.  

 

 _" I can ride a unicycle, and do flips on a trampoline! "_ The figure smiled, voice sharp and hysterical. _"I can juggle, and ride marvelous elephants that don’t exist anywhere besides Pennywise's Circus and your wildest dreams! Don’t you want to come along, little boy? I could use a ring leader! "_  

  

Token felt every point of fear that had slid its way into his shuddering body slowly alter into a category of anger and outrage. Using every piece of strength he could muster and ignoring the tears that slid down his cheeks, his voice became raw and stormy. "What did you _do_ to my friend? What did you _do!_ "  

 

The presence that referred to himself as Pennywise seemed not only taken back, but almost offended. His sparkling eyes grew firm as his grip on the weak branch loosed, but somehow, his smile only curled wider.  

 

He seemed to sniff into the air before one hand was slowly released from the tree. Without breaking eye contact, one gloved hand that held long, bony fingers moved casually to his round-shaped red nose. He honked it as if it were a horn, a mischievous glint sliding through his eyes. 

  

He gave a cruel, sickening smile and winked as if he and Token shared a secluded secret together. As if he knew every little thing about him.  

  

Suddenly and without a trace of warning, Craig jolted as if he had been awoken from a bad dream.  

  

And by the time Token's tear-stricken eyes had looked from Craig back to the branches, Pennywise was gone, and the sound of swishing in the leaves and branches grew further and further away until it dissolved into nothing but silence.  

  

" _Ngh_... Token?" A nasal grunt.  

  

 _Thank God_. "Craig, you're okay!" The boy took no time focusing on the mislaid mortal, and instead seized his friend into a tight hug, ignoring his confused mumbles of protest.  

  

"What happened?" He asked sluggishly, taking in the surroundings of fallen bikes and an empty dirt path. "Did I pass out?"  

  

Tokens mind flashed through memories that already seemed foggy and cloudy in his brain.  _Large feet. Hungry smile. Razor sharp teeth. A clown. A circus._  With quick breaths and a hammering heart, Token stood quickly, cautiously checking the deserted surroundings. He rubbed at his wet eyes and cheeks.  

  

They had to get out.  

  

None of this was right.  

  

"Hey, Token?" Craig asked quietly, rubbing at his temples. He squinted up at the boy, still in a cloud of confusion and unanswered questions. He pointed to the glint of a shadow floating behind his friend. "Where'd that thing come from?"  

 

Token turned quickly, fists clenched and a tight jaw that overpowered his emotional state of fear and dread.  

  

But no tall clown figure was to be seen once he turned.  

  

Only the sight of a red balloon, floating evenly throughout the forest.  

  

*  

  

Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Eric walked tightly together on a Friday afternoon, minutes after school had been let out. It had become standard to the four to sleepover at Stan's house on weekends, at least twice a month for good measure.  

  

"You guys, when we get to Stan's house, I get to sit on the comfy cushion on the right side of the couch." Cartman declared for the sixth time. "I've got dibs, and if any of you assholes tries to take it, I swear to god, I will seriously shoot you in the nuts."  

  

"We know, tubby," Kenny answered. "It's only the hundredth time you’ve reminded us today."  

  

"It's from past experience that I have learned not to trust _Jews._ " Cartman glared in Kyle's direction.  

  

Kyle took a moment to register the comment. He blinked up at the boys, looking at him while awaiting a response. He should bite back, he thought to himself. He should fuss over the comment and make a scene, just like he used to. But the past—everything he used to do—just made his heart ache as if it had been smashed into a million different puzzle pieces that would never fit together in the way that they had once before. Instead, Kyle simply shook his head lifelessly. "Whatever, fatass."  

  

It had been worse before. From calling Stan sobbing at 4 am, and breaking down during the hours of the school day, Kyle had come a long way. He lost a part of himself along with Ike, but there was always another part of him left that was itching to argue, to prank the 6th graders, to read and write and study once again.   

  

Sometimes that part of himself would show itself on good days; days where the sun shined so bright it hurt your eyes, where untied shoelaces and melting ice cream were the biggest problem. On the days where Stan would sit by him, watching movies late into the night until they would fall asleep to the distant murmuring of the television, or on the nights that Cartman would knock on his window at 11 o'clock to call him a Jew, and Kyle would be angry enough to yell in the spirit that he had once upon a time.   

  

On the mornings of a rising sun, sitting in Kenny McCormick's window watching as the sky awoke while Kenny blinked bleary-eyed into the brightness. His messy hair, fuzzy slippers, and light freckles would stand in Kyle's viewpoint, forcing him to take in everything beautiful about the boy. He would blame the feelings on the grogginess of the morning, and that was that.  _Beautiful._   

  

"Make sure you guys wipe your feet on the mat, or my mom will freak," Stan tells the three once they reach the familiarity of his home.   

  

Cartman, of course, ignores him as he does each time. His shoes leave a trail of muddy dirt from the wet grass. It seemed to rain more often in South Park as if the weather were setting the scene of something awful that was coming, getting closer and closer with each haunting day.  

  

"Dude." Stan glares, as he watches the stain Cartman's feet leave on the hardwood floor. "Seriously?" 

  

Cartman plopped himself on the Marsh's couch, dropping his backpack next to him as he began to tear through the front pocket. A bag of cheezy-poofs was fished out and was now gripped in his hands. "I had a hard day—it isn't my fault. God, I feel like a chick on her period. Now I know how Kyle feels all the time." He chewed loudly and obnoxiously, not minding the artificial cheese that dusted his fingers. "You guys wanna hear about my bad day?"  

  

Kyle rolled his eyes. "No."  

  

Stan locked his door. "Absolutely not."  

  

"Okay, so basically I was in art class, right?" Cartman began, ignoring the two. "Craig and those guys were cleaning up, and me and poor boy were painting, remember K _inny_?" Kenny sighed at the punctuation. "And Token, that prick, said something about how he would rather clean than paint. So I was like, that’s because you're black Token. It's in his blood—there couldn’t possibly be another reason. And then Craig called me ignorant. What an asshole!"  

  

Kenny reached for the remote with an eye roll.  “Right. And  _they're_  the assholes.”  

  

“Exactly!” Cartman replied, blocking out the blondes sarcasm. “You know what we should do? We should prank call Craig and those guys. Seriously.”  

  

"That's childish. We aren't ten years old anymore." Stan remarked pretentiously.   

  

"Says the kid who still vomits from nerves when miniature Hilary Clinton looks in his direction," Cartman grumbled.  

  

"Wendy isn't Hilary Clinton, fatass."   

 

"With a mouth as big as hers, she might as well be."  

  

Stan scoffed, opening his mouth to reply before snapping it shut under the influence of better judgment. With a final glare, he turned and fiercely marched into the kitchen to blow off steam by grabbing food and drinks to share.  

  

Cartman finished off the last of his snack and stretched, relaxation evident with his unbothered tone. "Stan is such a fag for protecting his girlfriend like that."  

  

Kenny looked to Kyle, who sat with an exasperated smile as the two made playful eye contact. As time slipped by, Stan had lost more and more patience each day when it came to dealing with Eric Cartman, and his best friend couldn’t have been more satisfied.  

 

"If you don’t want Stan to kick your ass by the time he gets back in here, then we should change the subject," Kenny remarked to Cartman.  

  

Eric crumpled up the empty cheezy-poof bag before tossing it onto the Marsh's living room rug. "As I said, we should prank call Craig and those guys. It'll be seriously awesome."  

  

"Grow the hell up, Cartman," Kyle replied, sliding off the couch to pick up Cartman's empty bag. He followed his friend into the kitchen seeking a garbage can, as well as Stan.   

  

"Just me and you now, poor boy." He exclaimed. "So are we gonna prank Craig and those douchebags, or what?"  

  

Kenny glanced toward the kitchen, where Kyle and Stan could be heard in deep discussion. The blonde was always the most mischievous out of the three, and this trait stuck out like a cactus in a flower full of daisies. He grinned, grabbing his cell phone from his pocket and scooting closer to Cartman.  

  

"I saw Clyde, Tweek, and Jimmy walking down Jimmy's street while I was riding home, so they're probably over at his place." Kenny explained, masterminding the idea with a grin. “Craig and Token are probably there, too. Bummer if they aren’t. I’ve been meaning to get back at Craig for taking my last piece of gum last week.”  

  

As Kenny began to scroll through his contacts to find Jimmy’s phone number, Cartman kicked his feet up on Stan’s table. “I don’t get why you’re friends with Craig, K _inny_. He’s such an ass.”  

  

“That’s exactly why we became friends in the first place. I’ve met my match.” He replied blissfully, typing in the code to make his number private. He then continued to type in Jimmy’s digits, shushing Cartman excitedly. “So, do that Asian accent that you always do and say something creepy,”  

  

“Got it, poor boy.” He answered approvingly.  

  

The phone began to ring, and Kenny put it on speaker just as Stan and Kyle exited the kitchen. At the sight of the scene, Stan simply held his objections in and took a seat on the couch. Kyle rolled his eyes as he sat down as well just as a click of a response was revealed through the phone. 

  

“Hello? Juh-Juh-Jimmy here, who’s this?”  

  

Cartman cleared his throat, mustering his mockingly Asian accent easily. “Look outside your window,  _Jimmah_."  

 

It was quiet for a moment, and multiple voices could be heard in the background. After a moment, the sound of the phone being passed could be heard through Kenny's cell phone speaker.  

  

"Was it you jackasses? Was it you guys in the woods?" Craig's forceful and hard voice spoke. Craig, the boy who never visibly looked anything other than unenthusiastic to those who didn’t know him, was yelling. "Token's fucking _terrified!_  Who are you?"  

  

Kenny knew that something was very wrong. The goofy smile disappeared from his expression, and he grabbed the phone, signaling the other three to be quiet.  

 

"Woah, dude. It's Kenny." He began, and his tone was serious and careful. "What's going on? Are you guys okay?"  

 

"Oh man, they're gonna get us  _ALL! Gah!_ " Tweek could be heard in the background.   

 

"It was you guys, right?" Clyde's jumpy voice demanded, shaky tone betraying the accusation. "Was it all a prank?"  

 

Kenny looked to Cartman, then Stan, and finally Kyle. Each gaze held question, and while Cartman showed less than no concern, Kenny had been with him the whole day and knew that the boy didn’t have time to go around scaring Craig and his friends. He looked back to the phone, frowning and chewing on his lip.   

 

"What was just a prank?"  

 

The line seemed to go silent on the other end, and the silence had only been terminated when Token's wobbly voice spoke up. His words were quiet and steady as if he had repeated it a hundred times before.  

 

"The Clown. The—the circus. The fucking balloon." Token paused, and no one else interfered even as the moments passed by.  "Was it all you guys, or was it real?"  

 

Kenny blinked. "We didn’t do anything, I swear it. What do you mean a clown?" 

  

"The Clown." Stan Marsh's skin was now pale, and his eyes were suddenly wet and wide. "I saw it too."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Leave feedback and criticism please :)
> 
> In relation to It, the It chapter2 trailer looked amazing. I'm so excited to see the losers club agaiUGH im praying i get reddie and benverly content


	3. Mind over Matter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you figure out what seems to be impossible?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woohoo hope you enjoy

 

"It just... doesn’t make sense." Kenny was speaking, and his eyes laid determined with a strained face. "That's not possible. It's just not." 

 

"I saw it, Kenny." Stan shot back, rather coldly. He had just finished recounting the highlights of his haunting encounter with the so called, Pennywise the dancing clown. He looked around the table of faces, staring back at him with wide eyes.  

 

Right after the phone call, Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman had made no hesitation to meet up with Craig and those guys. City Wok was the ideal location, as Kenny had worked there many times before and knew well enough that the place would, and always had been empty. 

 

 Stan held back a glare upon seeing the continuous doubt on McCormick's face. "It's real." 

 

Tweek uneasily shifted, tugging at the edge of his sweatshirt. "Maybe it was just some crazy guy! Some psychopath who— _Gah!_ Escaped from the mental ward," 

 

Cartman scoffed moodily. "Right, and were listening to the guy who drinks coffee with meth every day.” 

 

“It’s better than listening to you and your two brain cells.” Tweek snapped back, crossing his arms.    

 

"Can we focus?" Stan questioned, before sitting back in a slump as he wiped at his eyes. "Please. I need to know that I'm not crazy." 

 

Stan had wrapped up his story fairly quickly moments before, wanting and waiting to get it over with. 

 

_"I was walking home from Kyle's place with Kenny, and after I dropped him off at his place, I walked until I had begun to see my house."_ He had spoken in a soft voice. _"But then in the distance, I saw Kenny and Kyle—both waving at me with huge smiles on their faces. I was confused, since I had just seen them and I knew that they couldn't have gotten there so fast. But you know, th—they just kept waving at me, making hand motions that were a signal to follow them."_  

 

Stan had paused, fiercely wiping at his damp eyes. _"I'm not an idiot—I swear I'm not! But they just looked so real, and as I began to walk toward them,_ _I got a bad feeling when I smelled the scent of a circus around me. I started to slow down and looked back to make sure there wasn’t some fucking like, carnival or something. By the time I looked back, Kenny and Kyle weren't the same. They had completely glossed over eyes and they weren't moving."_  

 

Kenny squeezed Stan's hand, seeking comfort with wide eyes. Stan continued after a beat. _"Then, from behind them, a clown appeared with balloons in its hand. It was almost seven feet. I—I don’t remember everything, but I know I ran away and convinced myself that it was Cartman playing a prank on me."_ He looked up to Eric. _"That's why I've been so argumentative with you for the past couple of months, but I didn’t want to give you the satisfaction by confronting you about it."_  

 

Cartman was sitting next to Clyde, who he held respect for due to the fact that he had killed his own mother. "Stan, we know you're a hippie, okay? You don't need to keep proving yourself by telling these gay fairytales." 

 

"It's not a fairytale, dickhole!" Token argued, taking a deep breath. "I had a similar experience myself. I'm here for you, Stan." 

 

Stan shakily smiled. Cartman chewed loudly on his shrimp, being the only one to order anything. "Fag," He mumbled. 

 

"There's something about your story, Stan." Kyle remarked, trying his best to ignore Eric's big mouth. "It's—It's the balloons that sounds too familiar to me. On the night that Ike disappeared, I could have sworn I saw a red balloon tied to my mailbox." The redhead took a shaky breath, resisting the wave of sadness that overcame his entire chest. "I thought it was from the neighbors—some sort of weird condolence gift—but by the time I went outside to bring it in, the balloon had vanished." 

 

Eric rolled his eyes without sympathy as he mumbled to himself. "Here we go again." 

 

"Shut the fuck up, Cartman!" Kyle snapped, always ready to defend himself. "If the only reason you're here is to make obnoxious and rude side comments, then just leave!"  

 

Tweek sipped at his coffee, a glare hidden beyond the mug. "I second on that." 

 

Something crossed between Cartman's eyes.  

 

Regret?  

 

Pity?  

 

Loneliness?  

 

But Kyle didn’t have time to ponder on it, because the flicker of something real and humane inside of the boy was gone just as quickly as it came. Cartman dramatically pushed himself out of the plastic chair with a huff. "You know what? I'll leave. If you guys wanna sit around playing ghost busters, then that's fine! Just don't end up like our dear friend _Ike_ while you're at it!" 

 

Only a few beats had passed; beats that grabbed onto silence and crushed it in its palm. Everyone was waiting for tears to build up, or for words to be shouted, or for fists to fly. 

 

Kyle slammed his hands down on the table, but his expression was as cold and hard as a block of ice. A thick stone wall had carried his expression, making it impossible for the faces around him to figure out exactly what was trickling through his mind. 

 

Then, he took a deep breath, stepped past the table, and walked away. 

 

The glass doors slammed behind him like boulders crashing from the sky. 

 

"Oh, Jesus." Tweek mumbled, and his eyes were wide. 

 

"Cartman, you're such a piece of shit." Craig snapped, but his face remained as even as always. "Fuck you, dude." 

 

Stan glared with such frustration; one that the others had never seen in the gentle boy. His words were as hard as bricks. "Eric, you've never crossed that line before. Despite everything, I never thought that you would go that low." 

 

Eric looked around, and his expression held great offense. "What did I do?" 

 

"God, yuh-yuh-you idiot." Jimmy spat out through his signature stutter. 

 

"So Token can talk about his political views, and Craig can flip people off, but when I bring up Kyle's dead brother, everyone freaks out? That is seriously unfair!" 

 

"He's not dead!" Stan argued. "You know that. He's just missing right now!" 

 

"Yeah, his heartbeat is missing. That's for sure." Cartman snapped back. 

 

Clyde's eyes began to widen and water. "Do you really think so?" 

 

"He's just being an asshole, Clyde." Token answered. "Get the hell out of here, Cartman. You suck." 

 

Cartman looked offended, dramatically placing a hand over his chest. "You guys, lay off— I’m not here so that I can get... completely attacked by you assholes!” 

 

"Then why did you come?" Tweek exclaimed, before digging his face back into his coffee cup. Craig let out a snort. 

 

Eric looked at the frustrated faces around him. 

 

Then, in the most childish way, he stuck out his tongue and stormed out of the restaurant. 

 

"He's always been such a douche. Right, Kenny?" Stan said, only to get silence as a response. He frowned and turned to find McCormick's seat open and empty. "Kenny?" 

 

"He followed Kyle." Clyde supplied as he pointed through the door. "He followed him faster than anybody I've ever seen." 

 

Stan smiled hopefully and fondly, glad that his best friend was in good hands. 

 

After all, that was just what Kenny always did for his friends in need. 

 

Always. 

 

* 

 

"Deep breaths, okay? You’ll be alright.” 

 

Kenny's soft words had placed themselves like a secure blanket over Kyles trembling figure. They sat on the bench that laid upon Stark’s Pond, and the area had always seemed to be a comfort zone for every child in South Park. 

 

“Ike needed me.” Kyle was crying. He hiccupped through his words as tears fell from his eyes like tipped over water bottles. "He needed me and I wasn’t there. If I had gone with him then maybe—" 

 

"No, dude." Kenny was quick to interrupt. "Don’t think like that. It'll destroy you." 

 

Kyle didn’t respond. He wiped at his tears and looked ahead at the icy pond.  

 

Distant traces of ice skates blade were littered across the ice from people that could skate without a care in the world. People who knew where they were going and what moves they were going to make. People who could put on ice skates and not have to worry about fatass assholes, or parents who walked around like ghosts in the dark, or little brothers who went missing and were never found again. 

 

"Kenny," Kyle spoke finally, and his voice was hard and serious. "Do you really think Ike is dead? Do you think someone would do something so cruel?" 

 

The orange coated boy took a moment to respond. His eyes shifted from the ground to the fallen tree that laid just beyond the pond’s edge.  

 

Then he looked at Kyle. “But why does it matter?” 

 

His eyes snapped up at the words. “Excuse me?” 

 

Kenny put a hand on his friends shoulder, his eyes questioning. “It’s all in our heads, Ky. There isn’t proof that Ike is dead, but there isn’t proof that he’s alive either. It’s unknown, so our brain creates awful scenarios. It’s up to us to choose which one we want to see.” When Kyle didn’t reply, Kenny continued. “I’m going to believe that your brother is alive, and I hope you can believe that too. Don’t let your brain hurt you this way.” 

 

The redhead’s tears were dry now; left to be nothing but forgotten sorrow and grief in his expression. He studied Kenny’s eyes, looking for a trace of a lie, or something that would tell Kyle is he wasn’t so serious about his words after all.  

 

He found nothing but honesty. 

 

Then, he gave a small blossoming smile. 

 

“Thanks, Kenny.” 

 

* 

 

"And then they all like, called me names! Can you believe that, Butters? Seriously, rude!" 

 

Butters nodded along to Cartman's retelling of the incident at City Wok. While he didn’t quite understand the events that took place, he held onto the tale with interest. 

 

Cartman crossed his arms with frustration. "I hate those assholes so much, right?" 

 

"Mhm," Butters looked down at the grass floor below them. They sat on his front steps, and Eric swam in a pool full of anger.  

 

"I mean, there's no such thing as a stinking clown that's running around town. The adults would've done something by now!" Cartman exclaimed. "I just don’t see why they have to turn everything into some gay adventure. Screw them, seriously." 

 

"A clown seems awfully strange." Butters stammered. "But maybe this is a job for Mysterion."   
 

Eric looked up, and an invisible lightbulb went off above his head. "Or maybe, this is a job for the Coon."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this was so short I need inspiration!! ive been rewatching It (1990) again and I like it more than the 2017 version
> 
>  
> 
> also I have a kyle one shot coming up as a very late happy birthday to my # 1


	4. What the Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But we were together, and we were young and stupid, and it felt like we could do anything."

**_(2:04) Kyle Broflovski:_** _Stan, you better be lyin_ _g._  

 

**_(2:04) Stan Marsh:_** _i didn’t even say anything!!_  

 

**_(2:04) Kyle Broflovski:_** _Kenny told me you're walking through town alone. He said you told him you had to make a stop before coming over to my place._  

 

**_(2:05) Kyle Broflovski:_** _We live right across the street from each other. That’s when it's okay to walk alone. But wherever you are is most likely not safe with everything going on, so just please come back, or at least tell me where you are so I can come find you and we'll walk together._  

 

**_(2:06) Stan Marsh:_** _i can handle myself i just really need to be alone right now, okay? srsly don’t worry i'll be at ur house in about an hour :)_  

 

**_(2:06) Kyle Broflovski:_** _:(_  

 

**_(2:07) Kyle Broflovski:_** _Can you at least tell me where you're going so I know that you'll be safe?_  

 

**_(2:07) Stan Marsh:_** _it's very private and embarrassing i'm sorry but i need to keep this to myself, i'll text you every like ten min to let u know i'm okay, deal?_  

 

**_(2:09) Stan Marsh:_** _distract yourself with tv i'll be at your house before u know it! ily dude no homo <3 _ 

 

**_(2:09) Kyle Broflovski:_** _Text me when you're on your way._  

 

Stan sighed as he pocketed his phone, the guilt rising in his gut. His best friend had been extra paranoid over everyone's safety ever since Ike had vanished without a trace.  

 

Walking around town wasn’t something that Stan would consider dangerous, but he could understand the concern of Kyle, as well as his mother, whenever he wandered through the empty streets that seemed to mourn the disappearances by plastering their missing posters on each brick wall or storefront.  

 

He had walked a few blocks to reach where he needed to be, but Stan had long since reached his destination.  

 

It just took a bit for the right words to come out. 

 

Stan took a deep breath, stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

 

"Hey, Chef." 

 

Stan stood above the grave of Jerome Chef McElroy. He shifted his feet, kicking at the dirt with a lost expression. This was stupid, he decided. It was stupid, and he didn’t know why he continued to speak to the bed of dirt that sat above a wooden coffin holding the body of an old friend anyway. 

 

"It's been a while." The boy spoke quietly, with an unsteady rise and fall clawing at his tone. "I know I used to come to visit you a lot more often but… I guess I just felt like an idiot. It was stupid. It's—It's still stupid but I need—" Stan paused, his words becoming strangled by the sick lump in his throat. "I need to talk to you." 

 

Chef's death had been hard on the youngest Marsh. Chef had been there when Stan needed love advice at his nauseating endearment for Wendy Testaburger, and when Kenny McCormick was sick and on the brink of death in the hospital from muscular dystrophy. Chef had comforted Kyle when the redhead broke down over the temporary death of Mr. Hankey and Stan was too occupied with Wendy to help, and it was good old Chef who put the parents of South Park back in their place by giving a speech about sex education, and putting an end to the uncivilized madness that had wrapped around town for that week.  

 

Stan stared at the old guy's tombstone as he shivered against the bitter wind. 

 

"Things haven't been as crazy as they are now in a long, long time. South Park has always been weird, but I guess I never really felt… unsafe. It sounds crazy, because Kyle, Kenny, Cartman, and I used to get in all kinds of danger. But we were together, and we were young and stupid, and it felt like we could do anything." Stan found himself wiping at his eyes with frustration as the sunshine gleamed down on the melting snow. "Now things are different, and this time, death doesn’t feel like a game anymore." 

 

"Ike has gone missing, Chef. He's just gone. He's been gone for over a year, and I've never said it out loud before but I… I just don’t think he's coming back." Out of loyalty to Kyle and his own beliefs, Stan had barley let himself admit it. But the truth always came out when Chef was around.  

 

"Something really bad is happening, and it's like the adults… It's not like they don’t  _care._  It's almost like they don’t accept it. They can't accept that something so terrible is happening to children, and it just seems to go to drift away from their minds. Sometimes, it feels like the rest of the kids and I are the only people who realize how bad it's all gotten." 

 

_Sometimes, it feels like the rest of the kids don’t even realize at all._  

 

* 

 

**_(2:18) Stan Marsh:_** _checking in with u kyle, i'm gonna be on my way in a few, okay?_  

 

Kyle's hands immediately found his phone at the ding of the notification, and he sighed with relief upon seeing the message.  

 

**_(2:18) Kyle Broflovski:_** _Thank you for finally making an appearance, Mr. Marsh._  

 

**_(2:18) Stan Marsh:_** _don’t get all salty, at least i stayed true to my word!! :D_  

 

**_(_** ** _2:19) Kyle Broflovski:_** _I'll give you that one._  

 

**_(2:19) Kyle Broflovski_** _: Thanks, Stan._  

 

Kyle did feel more at ease after getting the checkpoint from Stan, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t more to worry about. 

 

Starting with the fact that Kenny McCormick's messages were starting to make Kyle's heart skip a beat and the butterflies in his stomach to soar. 

 

They were friends—really  _close_ friends—why wouldn’t he get excited to see the notification, right? Kyle bit at the sleeve of his sweatshirt, a habit that he had slowly picked up over the year. 

 

What was so different about Kenny that made Kyle feel like he could do anything? What was that feeling of warmth and passion that had begun to spike in Kyle's gut as the blonde and the redhead grew closer and closer? 

 

Kyle groaned loudly at the thought.  

 

He didn’t want things to change, and he didn’t want to ruin things between him and Kenny. They were  _friends. Good, close, friends._  

 

"Kyle?"  

 

He turned at the call of his name to see his mother standing in the doorway. It was a chilly afternoon, but she still had her thin, purple nightgown. There were dark circles underneath her light eyes, and Kyle frowned knowing well enough that it could only mean that Sheila had yet another sleepless night. 

 

"Yeah, Ma?"   
 

"Your father is working on making more missing posters for your little brother. Do you have any pictures you want us to use?" 

 

Kyle gave somewhat of a blank stare before nodding. "Oh, yeah... I'll bring them downstairs in a few. I have a couple of good ones." 

 

Sheila's eyes became moist as she smiled. "He's out there somewhere. We're going to find him." 

 

It felt like there were stones in Kyle's throat. "I know, Ma." 

 

She gave a hopeful gaze in response before staring at her son a moment longer. Her faded lipstick and worn-out expression were hard for Kyle to bare. He looked away, and by the time he looked back, Sheila had already trailed down the hallway and was on her way downstairs. 

 

* 

 

By now, it seemed Stan was  _ranting_ to Chef's grave. 

 

"…And then Heidi went crawling back to Cartman who had manipulated her to the point where she avoided Kyle until like, the next month! Everything was spiraling with Kyle's broken heart and Cartman's intolerant ass, and Kenny was off doing god knows what. And you know, Chef, I think Kenny might've been avoiding us during all that madness! I didn’t see him for weeks and when I asked about it --" 

 

“Hey, Marsh!” 

 

Stan whipped around quickly at the holler of his name in the familiar voice that could only belong to Craig Tucker. Beside him stood Tweek with a short stack of books gripped securely in his arms. The blonde waved from the sidewalk. 

 

It was embarrassing, Stan decided, to get caught talking to the dirt below him. Chef’s grave was simply a stone that rested upon the surface— it couldn’t respond or act on anything that Stan was saying. Stupid,  _stupid, stupid!_  

 

“Hi, Stan.” 

 

The boy hasn’t even realized Tweek approach him from behind. Stan could only nod in acknowledgment, too ashamed to do anything else. 

 

“We were on our way to do some research for Token at the library.  _Ngh—_  he's a bit shaken up because of what happened last time he went.  I didn’t expect to see you standing… here?” Tweek seemed to take in their surroundings and the grave that stood beside them. Catching the awkward atmosphere, he sadly looked away. Tweek had been there when the boys resorted to asking Chef what to do after accidentally poisoning their temporary fourth-grade teacher. Tweek stared at the grave before a fond, mourning smile made its way back to his expression. “I miss him too, Stan.” 

 

"He was a good guy." Craig's voice added as he neared the two. He nodded at Stan before frowning at him. "What are you doing here alone? I thought we agreed to travel in pairs or groups back at the restaurant last week?" 

 

"I needed to be alone." Stan snapped back with an accidental edge that he hadn't meant to add to his tone. He looked down, sighing quietly in an attempt to cool his embarrassed state. "It's just kind of humiliating, okay?" 

 

Craig's eyes trailed to Chef's grave. "Yeah, I get it but..." He paused with thought, making eye contact with Tweek. Tweek shrugged, and Craig continued. "Why don’t you just come with us to the library? Then we can all walk back home together." 

 

"Oh," It was funny, just last month Craig, Clyde, and Token had been calling Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman assholes for getting the last few slices of pizza from the lunch line. "Sure, I… I guess I'll come." 

 

Tweek gave him a reassuring smile and tried not to make his sudden twitch very obvious as the three began to walk. 

 

Stan pulled out his phone, surprised to see two notifications from Kenny. 

 

**_(2:23) Kenny McCormick:_** _sorry 4 snitching on ya to the angry little leprechaun, it slipped out in a convo abt how empty the streets have been over text_  

 

**_(2:23) Kenny McCormick:_** _seriously tho kyle means well he's such stressed_  

 

**_(2:34) Stan Marsh:_** _hey im passing by your house on my way to the library, wanna come?_  

 

**_(2:35) Kenny McCormick:_** _there u are haha i knew u were still alive!_  

 

**_(2:35) Kenny McCormick:_** _but why r u going to the library bleh_  

 

**_(2:35) Kenny McCormick:_** _plus i thought u told kyle that you weren't gonna b walking alone anymore_  

 

**_(2:36) Stan Marsh:_** _i'm actually not alone rn cuz i ran into tweek and craig. you coming dude?_  

 

**_(2:38) Kenny McCormick:_** _alright but there better be a good explanation as to why you guys decided the best place to hang out would be a library_  

 

**_(2:38) Kenny McCormick:_** _it's a ten min walk, i'll meet u guys there_  

 

* 

 

**_(2:44) Stan Marsh:_** _hey i ended up seeing tweek and craig. im gonna walk to the library with them so that i can walk home with someone. ill be at ur house at around 3:30_  

 

**_(2:45) Kyle Broflovski:_** _Kenny just gave me the heads up. I feel better knowing your walking with actual people instead of nobody at all. Have fun, dude. Love you no homo <3_ 

 

Kyle put his phone back on his dresser with a sigh. Interaction with his best friend would be a calming method considering he had to pick out his favorite pictures of Ike for his parents, but a part of him wished no one else would text him for a while. 

 

He had already picked out three old photographs of his little brother that were detailed enough for a disappearance poster. They sat on the desk behind him, and Kyle almost wished he wouldn’t have to turn around. 

 

He missed Ike so goddamn much. 

 

With an anxious frown, Kyle knew the sooner he could give the photos to his parents, the less upset he would feel. He knew Ike was out there— he just knew it. But everything that made him think of Ike only tore apart his art into pieces that could ever be put together again. 

 

He expected heartbreak when he looked at the pictures of a grinning Ike sitting on the desk behind him, but what greeted him when he turned around was something he could barely process. 

 

The three photographs were tainted with blood. Kyle flinched, rubbing his eyes and blinking, but they opened up to the unchanged sight. 

 

One picture showed a gooey line of blood that lay across his brother's neck like a tied rope. The second showed the boy's eyes gouged out and replaced with red empty sockets. The last picture was the worst, with Ike's entire arm decapitated from the rest of his small body. 

 

Kyle let out a short-lived scream as he stumbled away from the desk, reality slamming into him harder than a moving train. 

 

It only took a moment more for Mr. and Mrs. Broflovski to come thundering up the stairs. 

 

The strangest part, perhaps, was the fact that the thick blood seemed to be leaking out of the image and onto Kyle's desk. 

 

“Kyle, what happened?” Mr. Broflovski entered the room first with a heaving chest and wild eyes darting around the room. 

 

Sheila stumbled through the doorway, and her eyes immediately fell to the photographs. 

 

But it wasn’t the dried blood that she paid attention to. 

 

“Oh, Bubbie. These photos are adorable!” Sheila exclaimed with a smile of surprise.  

 

Kyle felt like he was going to throw up. “Ma, there’s— there’s  _blood!_ ” 

 

Mr. Broflovski gave him a weird look, eyeing the photographs and then looking back to Kyle. “Where? Did you get a paper cut or something?” When his son didn’t answer  turned back to the pictures of Ike without turning back. “Look at his big smile here, Sheila. That’s our boy.” 

 

“He’s very precious.” Mrs. Brofkovski replied with a nod and a watery smile. “Thank you for these, Kyle.” 

 

“You don’t see it?” Kyle's voice was a thin whisper. In fact, he was feeling a bit woozy. 

 

“See what?” Sheila asked mindlessly as she trailed her hand across the surface, and blood began to gather itself onto her palm. She took no notice at all.  

 

“Ma…” Kyle tried one more time. His voice was a desperate plea now. They had to see it, right?  _It was real, right?_  

 

“What’s the matter, Bubbie?” 

 

_Maybe he was going crazy. He could see the goddamn headline now; Brother Starts Hallucinating to Fill the Loss of his Missing Younger Brother._  

 

"Nothing's the matter, Ma." With eyes that remained glazed with tears that his parents didn’t seem to notice, Kyle shook his head stiffly. The blood was still  _there_ ; they were _looking at the blood,_  they were  _touching the blood!_  "…It’s nothing." 

 

* 

 

Kenny entered the South Park library with curiosity _._  

 

It wasn’t hard to spot Tweek Tweak, who was tugging at his hair while looking at something over Craig’s shoulder. Stan sat on the other side of the table with eyes focused on whatever page out of a big book he was pointing to. 

 

As Kenny neared, he could hear Stan’s focused mumbling. “…If it’s focused on fear then why would it give itself away…?” 

 

“Hey, guys.” 

 

“ _Gah_! Kenny!" 

 

“Hi there, Tweek.” 

 

The three seated boys looked up, and Stan patted the empty chair next to him. "Come sit. We figured something out." 

 

"In the ten minutes that it took me to walk over?" 

 

"It'll do you wonders when you take out a book," Craig remarked. "Are you sure you know how to read?" 

 

Kenny gleefully grinned, "Didn’t take you for a nerd, Tucker. Did you form that sentence all by yourself?" 

 

Craig simply flipped Kenny off in high spirits before pointing to the page that they had been looking at previously. "We found something bad." The boy's face grew serious in a matter of seconds. "There's a dark history in this town, and it seems to be repeating in a cycle. These kids disappearing— it's not the first time this has happened." 

 

"Yeah… but kids go missing everywhere at some point, right?" Kenny was quick to question with a soft frown. 

 

Stan shook his head. "Not like this. This book has all of South Park's history in here, and it has memorial pages for the kids that have been found dead or have gone missing around here." Tweek began to flip through the pages while Stan spoke for reference as Kenny watched wordlessly. "Over fifty children seem to go missing for a few months every 27 years. It's like something awakes and takes every valuable kid it can find-- and then suddenly at some point, it becomes satisfied and it just goes away." 

 

"But… that's impossible." Kenny's mind remained on the concern over Karen. "That can't be right; why wouldn’t anybody do something about it? Someone would  _do something_."  

 

"That’s where things get fucked up." Tweek supplied, turning to another section of the book. "Oh, Jesus, man. We're screwed," he mumbled to himself before continuing. "It's quite clear that the adults don’t care. It's like they just don’t notice. Well,  _ngh_ … it's like they _know,_  but they can't accept it."  

 

"And so they forget," Craig added with a nod. 

 

"Like, when something is so bad and hurtful to think about, so it gets blocked from your memory." Stan disclosed quietly. "It has the power to do that. The adults begin to block it out for their own sake, and then It finishes the job by making sure things are so horrific that nobody wants to think about it ever again." 

 

Kenny blinked taking in the information as his eyes widened with confusion. "And what do you mean by  _'It'_?" 

 

"We don’t exactly know what It is," Tweek replied as Craig scooched closer to his boyfriend for comfort. "We just know that it's  _something._ " 

 

Kenny opened his mouth, likely to question the reliability of a library book, but was interrupted when Stan's phone notifications began to vibrate three times in a matter of seconds. His hands scrambled for the device. 

 

Stan's breath hitched at the message.  

 

He lifted his phone to show Tweek, Craig, and Kenny the notification. He then quickly began to type back a response, muttering shakily as he did. "At least now we have an explanation for everyone." 

 

**_(3:16) Kyle Broflovski:_** _Stan I think I'm going crazy_  

 

**_(3:16) Kyle Broflovski:_** _I think I just saw something that should be impossible and no one but me can see it_  

 

**_(3:16) Kyle Broflovski:_** _Please come as soon as possible I think I'm going insane that has to be it_  

 

**_(3:17) Stan Marsh:_** _we're on our way._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi sorry i haven't updated for a little bit. Thank you all for your patience & your comments are what motivated me most <3
> 
> Stan and Kyle's friendship is very very important to me so i squeeze in as much of them as possible
> 
> I'm working on like two other South Park oneshots. One of them was supposed to be for Kyle's birthday but writers block had other plans and it's just going to be a K2 (mostly Kyle) centric fic,, im almost done and im excited to share it but this fic is my main focus

**Author's Note:**

> YEAleave feedback!!!!! :))


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